


Kiss of Autumn

by PrinceSircastic



Series: Halric [1]
Category: Hollow Crown (2012), Snow White and the Huntsman (2012)
Genre: I probably ruined both characters with the amount of fluff but deal with it, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-04
Updated: 2012-09-04
Packaged: 2017-11-13 13:05:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceSircastic/pseuds/PrinceSircastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hal loved the Autumn season. Autumn was crimson and gold. Autumn was Eric.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss of Autumn

**Author's Note:**

> This fic could have gone two ways. I opted for the happy Halric rather than the tragic Halric.

Hal loved the autumn season. 

No one was ever quite sure why, since the wayward son had, on a number of occasions earlier in his life, stated that he despised any season but spring, for that was when his memories of his mother were strongest. Upon each first day of spring, regardless of anything else, young Hal would run out into the land his father owned, and would return hours later with a flower crown for each of his sisters. As Hal grew in age and found the idea of making flower-crowns a little foolish, he would simply return with a flower each for his sisters, and that was that. But it had always been common knowledge that Hal had great dislike for any other season – save, perhaps, for summer on occasion – and so it was puzzling when Hal suddenly appeared to take interest in autumn. 

It had been Humphrey who first noticed the change in his older brother. Hal would normally stubbornly remain indoors unless he had business that required him to be outside, either at home in the castle or in his favourite tavern with Ned at his side, and so when he glanced out of a window one afternoon and saw Hal sat upon a bench, with a lapful of leaves and a smile upon his face, he deemed it unusual. Over the next few days, Hal was closely observed by his siblings, who could not understand this sudden change in their brother. Not even Ned, who rarely left Hal's side, could give reason for it – and if Ned did not know, then no one knew. The siblings deemed it a lost cause, and had to accept that their curiosity would not be satiated just yet. 

For Hal, autumn now held a greater meaning than a season where things began to die and the rich greens of spring and summer would wither into a multitude of yellows, reds and oranges. He had never appreciated the beauty of the season, disregarding it simply because he did not like it, but now he could stop and admire the cycle of life. He knew his siblings were confused and curious about his rather sudden change of mind, but he could never tell them the cause. He even doubted he could tell Ned, and Ned was his greatest friend. Nay, this would be something he kept to himself. 

Autumn no longer reminded him of the withering of life. Autumn reminded him of warm touches, gentle kisses and a feeling of truly belonging. The crisp air no longer brought a bitter chill but instead refreshed him mind, body and soul. The scent of damp leaves was sweeter to him than that of a flower in bloom. Autumn brought fond memories to mind, memories he treasured so greatly he dare not ever share them, for fear of the magic being broken. 

Breathing in the cool, crisp air, Hal strode out to the stables, closing his eyes with a smile as a gentle breeze whipped around his face, bringing with it the all-too familiar scent of damp leaves, apples, and something akin to the spices the cooks kept in the cellars. His horse was saddled and ready for him when he approached, and he gracefully mounted in a smooth motion that was so well-practised he could probably manage it in his sleep. He said nothing to the stable-boy who handed him the reins, simply kicking off into a canter, and then into a gallop, his joyous laughter lost in the breeze as he sped away from the castle. Hal felt alive upon the back of his horse, riding towards a destination only he knew the purpose of, towards his autumn prince who would take away his troubles and make him forget the world around him for a few short hours at a time. 

Their first encounter had been pure chance – staggering, drunk, Ned had upturned a table in the tavern whilst Hal collapsed into giggles close by, and the man seated at the table had jumped to his feet, enraged that he now had a lapful of ale. He had brandished his now-empty tankard, ready to bring it down upon poor Ned's head, but before he could make the swing a strong hand had enclosed around his wrist, and in the time it took for a wine-addled Hal to blink, the man was pressed face-first into the wall, his arm twisted painfully at his back, and Hal got his first look at his sweet autumn prince. 

 _'Still your anger, friend. The boy had no intent to upset your tankard.'_  The rich, deep voice brought a warm calm over the wild prince's heart, rendering him speechless and amazed.  _'Raise a hand to him and I shall break it.'_  He had released the man then, stepping away from him and turning to offer a hand to Ned, still sprawled upon the floor where he had fallen. As he hoisted Ned to his feet, Hal got the first glimpse of his smile, and decided he liked it.  _'Careful now, lad. A little care never went amiss before, nor should it ever.'_  Before he or Ned could catch his name, he had departed the tavern. No doubt the meeting was pushed to the back of Ned's mind to be forgotten in the haze of a drunken evening filled with wine and friendly attention from pretty young things in skirts, but Hal did not forget. 

A second meeting was all down to chance, though looking back Hal often wondered if perhaps the idea of fate was not as absurd as he would have once thought. Upon a hunt with his brothers, Hal had strayed from the party upon the trail of a stag he desired to bring down, wishing to present a greater prize than his brothers. Stubbornly pushing his horse on even when he knew he should have turned back and given up, Hal had slipped from his horse and cracked his head upon the gnarled root of a nearby tree, sending him into dizzying unconsciousness. 

When he came to, there was the warmth and the crackle of a fire nearby, his head was pounding terribly, and he registered that he was not alone. He had attempted to sit up, but a strong hand pressed him back down, and a flask of water was held to his lips. Hal had readily accepted the water, gulping it down with all the eagerness of a dying man. An amused chuckle had caused him to lift his gaze to the man he had to thank for his aid, and any words he had wished to say caught in his throat when he realised it was Ned's saviour from the tavern. 

 _'You and your friend are certainly well-matched in clumsiness.'_  He had laughed, placing a damp strip of material across Hal's forehead. A soft whinny drew Hal's attention to the opposite edge of the makeshift camp, where his horse gingerly pawed the ground, shaking its mane out with a slight snuffling sound. Hal had found his voice then, thanking him not only for finding him, but also for finding his horse.  _'You should take more care in the forest, lad. Sometimes it fights back.'_  

Hal had noticed then that the sky was darkening rapidly, and realised his disappearance would not have gone unnoticed – if there was not a search party already scouring the forest for him, there would be soon. If they were to find him in the company of this common man, he knew the worst would be assumed at once, and he wished no harm to befall him. He had staggered to his feet, thanking him again for his assistance, and ignored the sudden dizziness as he'd stumbled over to his horse, intending to leave and rejoin his brothers. 

 _'Aye, careful, lad! You had quite a fall, and no doubt rattled the brains in that pretty little head of yours.'_  Strong arms had steadied him, helping to ease him up into the saddle.  _'Ye should not be riding, lad, with that injury, but I can see you won't take no for an answer. At least let me escort you through the forest safely, lest you fall again?'_  Hal had agreed, glad of the offer though he would not voice such a thought. He had waited whilst the man had packed up his makeshift camp, tipping water over the fire and stomping it out just to be safe, and then they had set off through the forest. The man strode ahead of him, an axe in each hand as he picked his way carefully through the trees, choosing the best route for the horse. Upon reaching the edge of the forest, Hal had given his final thanks, and asked the man's name.  _'They call me the Huntsman, lad. That's the only name I need in these parts.'_  Hal had left the Huntsman then, riding home at full speed despite his pounding head. He had been fussed over once he returned, and his ever-distant father had demanded to know why he had strayed from his brothers and worried them all to death, and Hal spun some story of how he had simply fallen asleep after losing the stag. Only Ned, who had come to Hal's bedchamber with wine minutes after he had turned in for the night, noticed the head injury – and Hal was forced to give him a little of the truth. 

Hal made inquiries about the Huntsman when next he wandered into town, but no one seemed willing to speak of him. What scraps of information he was able to collect painted an odd picture of the man who had shown nothing but kindness to him – ruthless, they called him, and dangerous, a man desperate to seek the cold clutches of death and willing to take on any challenge presented to him. A drunk, they said, and a lost cause. With the payment of sweet kisses and the touch of a prince, a young woman gave up the information that the Huntsman had once been a married man, an honest worker with such life in his eyes. Upon questioning sweetened with more kisses, she had told him how the Huntsman had changed with the death of his wife, to become the man whispered about to this day. 

The first kiss of autumn had touched the forest when next Hal found himself within its earthly embrace. The Huntsman had become nothing but a memory in his mind, with months passing since their last meeting, but it was a memory he continued to chase. When his attempts at finding his residence, or running into him in the taverns, had failed, Hal knew there was only one place left to look. Leaving Ned behind at the castle, he had crept away to the forest in search of him. For the first time, Hal was willingly spending time in the autumn air. 

He ventured into the trees, many of them shedding leaves of rich, warm colours that at first made him think only of the colourful flowers he had once threaded into his mother's and sisters' hair. He wandered aimlessly, hoping for a sign that he was not alone, wishing for the Huntsman to appear before him, though he knew not his purpose for seeking him. What was drawing him to him in such a way that he had not been drawn to anything before? Why this fascination with a man he had only met twice, and barely held a conversation with? 

He was sure hours had passed when he finally collapsed upon the bank of a stream, tired and frustrated, condemning himself to the knowledge that he would not be able to find the Huntsman this way, after all. It had been a stretch of course – the forest was vast, and there was no guarantee he was even here at all. He had stretched out upon the warm grass, his head pillowed upon his arms as he gazed up at the canopy above him, spotting the blue sky through the gaps between trees, letting the sounds of the forest fill the silence. For the first time in many years, Hal found appreciation for the world around him. 

 _'Why is it that you are always on your back when we meet?_ ' Hal had not even flinched at the sudden voice, merely rising into a sitting position and twisting to glance up at the Huntsman.  _'Do you make a habit of it?'_  When he took a seat beside him, Hal realised he had not felt this comfortable with another since Ned, and that baffled him for it had taken Ned many long months and stubborn behaviour to work his way into Hal's heart. The Huntsman had achieved it in far less. 

They had simply sat in comfortable silence after that, listening to the nature around them. When Hal had set a hand down in the grass between them, a larger, warmer hand had covered it, and in that moment Hal knew why he had been so eager to seek the Huntsman out. Their touches had been soft, gentle, neither quite knowing the other's limits, experimenting and learning. The finest of wines could not have compared to the taste of the Huntsman's lips against Hal's, and with a slight tremble to his voice, Hal had asked him to claim him. He expected rough treatment from the calloused hands and the brute of a man that owned them, but the Huntsman was oddly gentle and caring as he stripped Hal of his garments. His touch was like fire, burning without the pain, awakening levels of desire that Hal had not known he could reach. No woman could ever compare, and no woman ever would. 

As they lay side by side in the grass if the aftermath of their coupling, the Huntsman had lifted a hand and brushed bronze curls from Hal's forehead, his voice dropping to a whisper.  _'My name is Eric.'_

 _'And mine is Hal.'_  

Eric had changed Hal's view on the autumn season. 

He slowed his horse once more to a canter as the forest loomed ahead, and he made a swift dismount once he was within its border. Since their first coupling, Hal had sought Eric out twice more, both times under the canopy of the forest and surrounded by the sights and sounds and scents of autumn. Each time, they parted with a kiss and a promise to meet again, and Hal would return to the castle feeling lighter and happier, and he would weave an autumn leaf into the hair of each sister, kiss them upon the brow, and run to find Ned, leaving his siblings to question their brother's baffling behaviour. (It would be Ned who first made the connection, though he neglected to tell them that their eldest brother was  _in love –_ that was something for Hal to share only when he was ready to). 

He lead his horse through the forest, picking out the path he always took, to the bank beside the stream where first he gave himself to the Huntsman, to his autumn prince. He tied his horse to deny it the chance to stray, and he stretched out in the grass, sweeping up an autumn leaf in one hand and bringing it to his face, breathing in the familiar scent he now found so wonderful. So in tune with the sounds around him, he smiled when he picked out the telltale sound of boots upon the earth, and he counted to ten before a shadow fell across him, and he looked up into the face of his dear Eric. 

"Always upon your back." Eric murmured, easing down onto his knees beside the prince's lithe figure, leaning in to accept the kiss Hal always offered him. His prince tasted, as always, of wine and cinnamon, something so perfectly Hal that he would never taste anything sweeter. Hal was liquid gold and honey, a bundle of trouble and mischief wrapped within a body that begged for sin, and Eric could never get enough. Sara had stolen his heart, and had taken a part of it with her when she passed, but Hal had a firm hold upon his very soul, had reached a hand into the very depths of his repressed emotions and fixed upon the last remaining scraps of love, clinging with an iron grip that Eric could not shake off – and nor did he want to. 

"It is how you like me best, and do not think to deny it." Hal murmured against his lips, voice like silk and sin and already sending shivers down Eric's spine. 

"I would not dream of it." Eric replied, a smirk upon his face that Hal almost felt the urge to kiss off – but he restrained himself, simply sprawling regally upon the grass, his favourite leather jacket falling open, allowing the crisp air to dig its cool fingers into the thin fabric of his shirt, ghosting over the skin beneath. One of Eric's hands pressed flat against his chest, the warmth of his skin radiating through Hal's clothing, and warming him to the very bone. "It has been long since our last meeting, my dear prince." 

"I was unable to find reason to depart the castle." Hal offered by way of explanation, sitting up to allow Eric more ease at removing the jacket from his shoulders. It was folded carefully and set to one side, followed by the tough jerkin Eric favoured, and then hands were free to wander, to roam, to explore bodies they were familiar with. "But I shall make this more than worth the delay." 

"You make such promises, Hal." Eric's lips brushed along the line of Hal's jaw, fingers deftly tugging open the thin shirt to get at the flushed skin beneath. "I expect you to keep them." The shirt slid down his arms and off, to be tossed in the direction of the clothing already discarded. When Eric's hands found the smooth, pale skin, Hal was not a young man, strong from training for war and fighting in it, but precious porcelain that would break if one so much breathed the wrong way upon it. Hal was delicate, a treasure to be treated with care, Eric's greatest prize. Hal sighed upon the first touch of Eric's lips, his fingers winding into the soft dark hair of his Huntsman, finding the tie holding it back out of his face. With a swift tug Eric's hair spilled free, brushing against his own skin as Eric's lips traced their way across his chest. 

"My Huntsman." Hal whispered, his hands now fighting with the shirt upon Eric's back, wanting the offending garment removed at once. Eric pulled away from him just long enough to slip the bracers from his wrists, and then Hal's hands were pulling the shirt up and over his head. Long fingers – an archer's hands, Eric had called them once – traced scars they had discovered time and time again, teasing at the sensitive skin with fingertips first, lips second. Eric's own fingertips found the tiny pale marks scattered across the prince's skin, put there by clumsy brothers with swords or by the more skilled strikes of Ned. "My Eric." Long arms hooked around his neck and he was eased down over the lithe figure of the young prince, skin meeting skin as their bodies were pressed flush together. 

"Hal," Eric murmured against the curve of his neck, hands sliding down to grasp narrow hips, "sweet Hal." Eric's mouth made its way down his chest, littering soft kisses across the smooth skin, feeling the rise and fall as Hal sucked in each shallow breath, his heart pounding in his chest as Eric nuzzled into the firm muscles of his stomach. Strong hands tugged his boots free, tossing them aside to be forgotten, and skilled fingers made short work of easing down the tight breeches Hal insisted upon wearing. "Beautiful Hal." Those long, slender legs hooked up around his waist, urging him closer, and with a rock of his hips Eric had Hal moaning softly and beautifully. 

With movements he was slowly getting accustomed to, Eric worked off his boots and slid free of his own breeches, his naked skin sliding against Hal's in a way that pushed them both towards the line between clear thought and mindless lust. Without words, Hal's fingers circled one of Eric's wrists, bringing his hand to his lips and curling his sly tongue around two of his fingers. Knowing it would serve him no good purpose to watch the act being performed, and for the better of his sanity, Eric turned his head to press hot kisses along the inside of one thigh, his free hand grasping Hal's ankle and shifting his position until he had the beautiful limb hooked comfortably over one shoulder. Hal was so supple and limber, perfect in every way. 

His fingers well coated and slick from Hal's saliva, Eric adjusted their positions once more, allowing enough space for him to get his hand down between Hal's spread legs. As he slipped the first finger into the tight heat beyond, Hal clenched and groaned, his head falling back with a deep sigh, bronze curls tangling with long green blades of grass. He writhed as Eric pushed deeper, smiling as the muscles slowly began to relax as Hal adjusted to the intrusion. When he felt it time, Eric added the second finger, working them both deep inside him, stretching him, urging him into readiness for what was to come. Hal's chest heaved with each breath he sucked in, his face flushed pink, lips parted as breathy moan came after breathy moan, his body becoming so wanton under his touch. 

"Eric…" Hal gasped out, lifting his head to fix glazed-blue eyes upon his Huntsman's face as the man withdrew his fingers. "Please." Hal never begged, only asked, and Eric would willingly give the moment the word passed his lips. Giving his hard flesh a quick coat of his own saliva – and making a note to pack some oil each time he came to the forest from this moment on – Eric lined himself up and eased himself inside. Slender fingers grasped his shoulders tightly as Hal's mouth fell open in a gasp that was more pain than pleasure, and Eric stilled, waiting until the grip loosened before moving again. He would rather give his soul to the devil than hurt his beloved Hal. 

Hal's body was quick to adjust, however, and in no time at all he was sheathed to the hilt inside his precious prince, the limber body quivering beneath him. Hal's hands wound into his hair and he thrust himself up into an awkward position simply to bring their lips together in a kiss, which Eric was all too happy to return. With gentle movements, he began their intimate dance of love-making – for that is what it was, all it had ever been. Hal moved with him as though they had done this a thousand times, their bodies in sync – when Eric thrust forward, Hal thrust back, taking all that Eric could give, and demanding more. 

Hal threw a hand over his head, fingers digging into the dirt and grass to find some sort of hold on reality as Eric's pace increased, desire driving him to move faster within him, their mixed moans of pleasure more beautiful to their ears than any birdsong nature could produce. When Eric drove Hal closer and closer to a much-needed release with every thrust, Hal's moans increased in volume until they echoed faintly around them. As their bodies truly became one, and they reached a climax as one, Eric's hand found Hal's above his head, and their fingers laced together. Hal's eyes closed and his lips quirked up into a smile as he was filled with Eric's seed, amazed that such a sensation could give him such personal pleasure. He belonged to his Huntsman, to his autumn prince, and none could dare say otherwise. 

Eric never strayed far from him as they allowed their minds to return to earth, sprawling beside him in the grass, close enough for Hal to curl into and nuzzle into his chest, a slender leg sliding between his own, wanting to maintain the same level of closeness. Eric stroked a hand through sweat-damp curls, to rest it against the nape of his neck in a gesture one could only call possessive, and in return Hal lifted his head to press a sweet kiss to his Huntsman's lips. 

"My sweet Hal." Eric murmured, striking blue eyes showing such love that for a moment Hal was taken aback by the intensity. "My prince. My love." Hal had never known a love other than his mother's, or the love of a younger sibling, and in that moment he realised exactly what had been missing from his life until now. Eric cared nothing for titles, for land or for blood. Eric would love him all the same if he were no more than a dirty slave in the streets. 

"My Eric." He whispered in response. "The Huntsman who stole my heart." They kissed again, tender and loving and  _perfect_. Eric cradled the prince against his chest, wishing he could protect him from the horrors he would certainly face in his lifetime, but knowing he could not shield him forever. His Hal was strong, and brave, and he would rise above it all and return to his arms safe and sound each time. 

When at long last they parted from the warm embrace, they bent to the stream and cleansed themselves, sharing sweet kisses and loving touches. Hal would laugh whenever Eric splashed at him, and Eric would smile because Hal's laugh was more beautiful than he could ever put into words. They dressed, slowly, making the most of their time together before they had to, once again, part ways. 

They walked hand-in-hand, leading Hal's horse, to the edge of the forest, and Eric pulled the prince flush against him for a final kiss that left Hal feeling weak at the knees. He fisted a hand in Eric's shirt, pulling him in for a second kiss, a kiss full of promise, and then he stepped back, released his grip, and mounted his horse. 

"I will return to you, my Huntsman." Hal promised, and Eric lifted a hand to stroke down one strong thigh. 

"And I will wait for you, my prince." He murmured in return, taking one hand and kissing his knuckles. "Stay safe and well, so that I might continue to love you fiercely." 

"The same to you, my autumn prince." Hal smiled, tenderly touching a hand to Eric's cheek. "For I intend to love you well and long." Eric smiled, taking a single step back as he gave the horse a pat upon the rear. With a snuffling snort, the horse began to move, and Hal lifted a hand in goodbye as he urged the beast into a gallop. Eric watched him until he was out of sight, and with a broad smile upon his face, he turned back to the forest that had become his heaven. 

His bed at home was cold, and empty, but the forest was warm with tender memories of his beautiful prince. He would wait for him, as he always did.


End file.
